Another brilliant review for An Elephant On Your Nose by Warren Reed is available here. Don’t forget to grab your copy now!
Most Australians pay little attention to pronouncing names correctly in their relations with the peoples who live to our north. But to those people, our failure to bother to get things right is seen as indicative of a lazy attitude in general to other cultures. Near enough is good enough.
We’re thrilled to say that ‘An Elephant On Your Nose’ by Warren Reed is already receiving glowing reviews from around the world. Check it out here, and click below to order your copy now!
We’re so excited to have announced pre-orders for author and former ASIS agent Warren Reed’s newest book ‘An Elephant On Your Nose’. Here, Warren writes about some of the background to the book. You can order your copy now by clicking here.
The comparatively small numbers of Australians who have studied, worked and lived in Asian countries know how important it is to understand how history has shaped those nations.
For example, a few years ago we were saturated with news about the Senkaku Islands – which the Chinese call the Diaoyutai – that are south of Okinawa. The Senkakus are administered by Japan but are claimed by the Chinese as their own traditional territory. Though the Senkakus have now dropped out of the media completely, they were until recently seen to be a possible flashpoint for military conflict between Japan and China. Coastguard ships and naval destroyers were patrolling the area and it seemed that skirmishes were about to take place, which could escalate into something far more serious.
No one in the media, even in Japan, bothered to check out the history of the islands, beyond countering China’s historical claims. Despite China’s assertions, there was an incident just under one-hundred years ago that tells a very different story.
In November, 1919, a Chinese fishing boat from China’s Fujian Province – 15.6 metres long, with a beam of 5.4 metres and powered by sail, rather than an engine – was fishing in Japanese waters off the Senkakus. Thirty-one men were aboard, mainly from one family, with the eldest aged 60 and quite a few youngsters aged between 11-16. A typhoon struck, seriously damaging the vessel, and to save it the crew had to cut the mast away to avoid capsizing. The storm raged for more than a month, with the crew tossed about by the wind and waves and drifting helplessly as they attempted to repair their boat. In late December, with no improvement in the weather they found themselves again within sight of the Senkakus but unfortunately their vessel was so badly damaged that it sank. The crew managed to save themselves by taking to three small dinghies they had on board.
They carefully made their way to the Islands, where Japanese fishermen from the settlement there spotted them and helped bring them ashore. They were looked after by the Japanese and their health and spirits restored until the storm finally abated in mid-January 1920. As a result of this, no lives were lost. The leader of the Japanese settlement then took them in his fishing vessel to Ishigaki Island, which is part of the Japanese island chain that stretches all the way from southern Kyushu to Formosa: now Taiwan but then Japanese territory. Ishigaki City was the administrative headquarters and was the centre of activity in the southern region of the Prefecture of Okinawa that governed the overall island chain from Naha, the capital.
The Chinese crew stayed in the city for ten days while their health improved, after which they were taken by the regular ferry service to the port of Keelung in Formosa. From there, they were repatriated to their hometown in Fujian. There were numerous communications at the time about the rescue, between the Japanese mayor of Ishigaki and the governor of the Prefecture of Okinawa, as well as with the Ministries of Foreign Affairs and Home Affairs in Tokyo. Also in the loop was the Chinese Consul in Nagasaki in the north-western part of Japan’s Kyushu Island, who wrote a remarkable seven official letters of gratitude in Chinese on behalf of the Government of the Republic of China. All of the key Japanese involved in the rescue and repatriation of the crew were thanked, and all expenses incurred by the Japanese reimbursed. A gratuity was also included by the Chinese in appreciation of the assistance the Japanese had rendered.
All of the official documentation raised at the time, in both Chinese and Japanese, still exists in the archives. The letter that the Chinese Consul sent to the leader of the Japanese settlement in the Senkakus was lodged by his eldest son in a museum in Ishigaki City in the 1990s. There was never any dispute at the time over the fact that the Senkaku Islands belonged to Japan.
Also little known is that Okinawa itself, once the centre of the Ryukyu Kingdom, was a tributary state of China. For some centuries after the various islands in that chain were unified by the Okinawans, who were not Japanese, it was a focal point of booming Asian maritime trade. Vessels from Southeast Asia and beyond would unload their cargoes there, which were them divided up for transhipment to various ports on the China Coast. Many Chinese administrators lived there and coordinated this trade.
So, when we hear about China’s claim on islands in the East and South China Seas, we need to be mindful that history can often tell us much more than what’s presented to us by media reporters averse to a quick Google search before putting pen to paper.
We're so excited to have announced pre-orders for author and former ASIS agent Warren Reed's newest book 'An Elephant On Your Nose'. Here, Warren writes about how we came to the book. You can order your copy now by clicking here. Half a century ago, the Japanese economy took off and drew Australia into Asia’s orbit like never before. Japan was followed by the rest of the “Asian tigers” and then China dwarfed all of that put together. Through all of this, significant numbers of Australians ventured into the Asian world to study, to live, to work and to establish long-lasting personal and professional relationships. In this process, these Australians have been able to observe up close the ways in which the peoples of Asia themselves relate to each other. The mechanics of all this can be complex, not just to understand but also to convey to fellow Australians. There aren’t many books around that do that.
Clearly, anyone who writes novels typically draws heavily on their own life experience and that’s what I’ve attempted to do with An Elephant on Your Nose. I’ve always wanted to create a story that shows how the Chinese, Japanese and Koreans, for example, rub up against each other. What do the differences in culture mean in their inter-relationships? How do the legacies of history hover in the background? How are the hierarchies of Northeast Asia’s institutions structured and how do they differ from our own? I hope that this book illustrates some of that, and additionally what happens when a foreigner is thrown into the mix. Language proficiency isn’t the be all and end all of a foreigner’s experience in Asia, but it certainly helps. Above all else, it displays respect for a society and culture vastly different to our own. To be fluent enough to understand how humour and innuendo differ in various Asian countries provides wonderful opportunities for exchange. One of the world’s most commonly shared languages is that of laughter. It not only facilitates mutual understanding but also throws up a wealth of unintended mistakes that help different peoples to laugh with each other rather that at each other. There are other languages too, like that of silence, which in Northeast Asia can be wielded with the dexterity of a surgeon’s scalpel.
These are the sorts of things that have helped define the story and the characters in An Elephant on Your Nose. I hope you enjoy it.